


Love is a Four Letter Word

by momo0231



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Also featuring my hc that Stan is red/green colorblind, Featuring: Stan's memory loss and Stan going to his own funeral, Gen, I wrote this when very very tired and wanted to write for a change instead of thinking about writing, so uhhh yes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-04
Updated: 2019-01-04
Packaged: 2019-10-04 02:09:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,094
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17295686
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/momo0231/pseuds/momo0231
Summary: Stan has a whole lot of reasons to believe that his family doesn't love him.Sometimes, he just needs to hear it again.





	Love is a Four Letter Word

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Stanuary 2019. First week is Love. I just wanted Stan to get reaffirmed that he's loved.

Stan didn’t know how Ford grieved, or if he would even be upset that he died.

It’d been ten years, and Stan couldn’t safely say that he knew his brother anymore and yet here he was trying to pretend to be him like when they were kids. It felt like a miracle that his mom was crying too much to really get a good look at him and realizing that something was off. He didn’t want to stay long, not really when he could just be looking for Ford and not pretending that he was dead somewhere in a car wreck.

He was sitting on the floor next to his mom, resting his head on her leg as they sat in relative silence. There were no visitors yet, and Stan was trying to formulate a good excuse on leaving when his father left the room to do… Something. Probably upset about the money he wasn’t making right now was when his mother decided to address him. “Stanley loved ya. He told me every time he called in his own way.” She said softly, her fingers running through Stan’s hair.

“He called?” Stan was rusty on sounding like his brother but it apparently was good enough that she wasn’t questioning it.

“When he got a chance. Sometimes it would be months before he called again but he always called in the end.” She sighed, taking her hand away to dab at her eyes with the handkerchief that she had.

Stan was quiet for a moment, the pressing urge to ask a question that he wasn’t sure if he wanted to know the answer to. “Does pa really love us?” Did his father ever love _him_ but he couldn’t ask that.

He knew Ford would ask about himself before he ever asked about Stan.

There was a moment of pure silence before his mom sunk to the floor next to him. He was about to tell her to sit back up, that her knees wouldn’t be able to stand up again, but when he looked at her she looked serious and he closed his mouth. “Stanford your father… He didn’t know how ta show it right. He didn’t even know how ta not be an asshole,” Stan couldn’t help but snort, “but he loved ya. And Stanley. He was doing what he thought was best for the family and sometimes that didn’t leave room for you or your brother but he always cared for you.” She put a hand on his cheek and god if Stan didn’t lean into it, feeling like he was 12 again but he so desperately wanted the feeling that someone _cared_ again.

“He kicked Stan out.” He pointed out, glancing back at her as her eyes watered and more tears streamed down her face.

“He always thought Stanley would come back. He didn’t know how stubborn your brother was. He loved Stanley. We all loved Stanley. I just wish he coulda known that.”

~@@~

When Stan had come down for breakfast, the Shack a little more repaired then he remembered it being the kids were already downstairs. “Grunkle Ford made us breakfast so you didn’t have to!” The girl said, looking up at him with a smile and pushing the plate of waffles closer to him.

He sat down, taking some and putting it on his plate and for a moment wondered how he even _liked_ his waffles. He looked to the girl who had put every kind of sugar on hers before glancing at the boy’s plate who had a modest butter and syrup combination.

Stan decided that he would lean closer to the boy’s as he started putting butter on his waffles.

They ate in silence for a while before Ford showed up, probably from that weird basement that he talked about. “Good morning kids. And Stan.” He looked at him for a moment and Stan looked down at the plate a little more before his brother made a place for himself at the table.

“How are you feeling today, Stanley?” He asked, and Stan knew he was trying to be helpful but he didn’t want to _talk_ about it.

“Fine.”

“How is your memory?”

“It’s fine.”

The table went silent and Stan knew he wanted to push but he felt a hand on his arm and he looked over to the girl. “It’s okay Grunkle Stan. It’ll come back. Maybe even better than before! Maybe all your memories will be in _all the colors_!”

Stan laughed, moving his hand to take hers and squeezing it gently. “Unless ya got a way ta fix my eyes I don’t think that’s in my future.”

Mabel. It was Mabel and Mason. No, not Mason. Dipper.

Mabel and Dipper.

“Do you mind if my brother and I speak for a moment?” Ford said from his space and the kids wordlessly gathered up their things and left. They waited a moment until they heard the noise of the TV and the sound of conversation between them.

Stan felt like he had done something wrong.

“Stan, it’s okay if your memory isn’t all here today.” Ford started but Stan shook his head, ignoring the ache that was starting to form.

“Ford, I don’t know if I’m gonna be right for a while. You knew that from the first day, but I do have a question for ya.” He looked at his brother who was watching him expectantly. “Do those kids love me as much as they love you?”

There was a pause as Stan looked almost defiant, as if he knew that the answer wasn’t in his favor and wanted Ford to come out and say it.

Except that he just looked _shocked_ that Stan would even consider that. “Stan, the children adore you. Whatever you think has been fostered in the few weeks I’ve been here is nothing compared to what you have… Created with those kids over a summer. They love you. I don’t know how they couldn’t love you, with the way you care so fully for them and always put them first. You’ve saved their lives, from what I’ve gathered a few times now but even if you hadn’t I don’t doubt their love for you.”

Stan wasn’t sure he believed it, something in him saying that he didn’t deserve it but when they left the kitchen to join them in the TV room they immediately joined him on the chair and caught him up to speed with what he missed.

Maybe just for a little bit he could believe it.


End file.
